


In Dreams

by Sp00ky_Titty



Category: Good Omens, Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Chronic Illness, Chronic Pain, Crowley Has Chronic Pain (Good Omens), Hurt Aziraphale (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23475847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sp00ky_Titty/pseuds/Sp00ky_Titty
Summary: This is just a collection of short Good Omens fics that I wrote and had no where to put them.Feel free to leave (sfw) prompts in the comments!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. index

[ **Tardigrade** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23475847/chapters/56283529)

Crowley deals with chronic pain (1,591 words)

***

[ **Nightmare** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23475847/chapters/56318851)

Aziraphale has a nightmare where his and Crowley's roles are switched in the book shop fire scene (1,948 words)


	2. Tardigrade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley deals with chronic pain

Pain was something that Crowley knew all too well, there was always some ache within his bones, something that he could never outrun. That being said, throughout six  _ thousand _ years, he learned the ability to hide the pain from the angel that often accompanied him. Today was no different.

Today he woke to a sharp pain in knees that only worsened as he moved, and a dull, throbbing pain in his chest that became sharp every few breaths that he took. Waking up like this wouldn’t have been a deal at all if he was able to simply roll over and go back to sleep, but he promised Aziraphale, that he would walk with him on the nature trail that a nearby park provided. This was something that has been planned for today; the weather was finally getting rid of the snow and being replaced with rain- and it rained a  _ lot _ , so the carefully planned around all the rain and mud it created. Crowley didn’t want to call off the hike today, he didn’t want to disappoint his angel like that.

His phone suddenly began to ring in his ear, silently cursing himself for allowing himself to fall asleep while scrolling through social media. He rubs his face as he looks at the contact that shone brightly in his face. He swiped to answer the phone, and lazily put his mobile on the side of his face as he still laid in bed.

“Yea.” His voice was groggy.

“You know, my dear, most people answer their phones with ‘hello’, or something of that nature.” Aziraphale said matter-of-factly.

“ ‘S better than jus’ sayin’ what.” Crowley huffed. “You yelled at me ‘nough times bout that.”

“I suppose you’re right,” ziraphale said on the other side of the phone, “are you still up for that hike? It’s nearly noon, and I was afraid-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Crowley interrupted, “was just about to head over.”

“Splendid! Sorry to hold you up, see you momentarily!” Aziraphale said with clear excitement in his voice, and hung up.

Crowley let out a long sight, and he stretched out amongst his bed, hearing his joints crack and pop. As he sat up, his face contorted and he quickly leaned forward to put pressure on his left knee where there was a muscle cramping. Once the cramping stopped after what felt like eternity, but was only a matter of seconds, he snapped his fingers and was no longer in his black, silk pajamas. Although he was in his usual skinny jeans, he wore a black, knit turtleneck that hung loosely around his frame.

When Crowley finally made his way to the park, he found Aziraphale sitting at a bench feeding ducks and other small creatures that gathered around him. He tapped the right side of Aziraphale’s shoulder and shimmied to the left, poking his head over his shoulder with a smile on his face. This is a game that he often played, and although Aziraphale quickly learned throughout the years that he’s shown up on the other side, he always humored the demon by looking at the side he tapped.

“Ready?” Crowley asked, stretching his arms over his head as tall as his body would allow him.

“More than.” Aziraphale smiled as he stood.

The pair made their way to the entrance of the woods, Aziraphale a couple of steps in front of Crowley. As they began their hike, Crowley slowly started falling behind, but he blew it off by saying he was admiring the pants, and the new leaves that were just beginning to bud. This only worked so many times before Aziraphale started to catch on that something was off with his demon.

“Dear, you are really falling terribly behind.” Aziraphale stood a few paces ahead of Crowley, with his eyebrows knitted.

“Well maybe if y’weren’t walking so fast.” Crolwey snapped.

“I’m not,” Aziraphale took a deep, calming breath, and closed his eyes for a brief moment, “I’m not walking fast, Crowley. I’m usually the one having to keep up with you. If you don’t want to-”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to come out, quit putting words in my mouth.” Crowley glared at Aziraphale through his shades.

“I never said you did dear.” Aziraphale began to fiddle with the buttons on his vest.

“Let's’ just get a move on, yea?” Crowley said, already beginning to walk ahead of his angel, doing his best to hide the limp in his legs. Aziraphale watched him from the spot he was standing in for a minute before he decided to catch up with him.

The who walked together in silence; Aziraphale began to feel guilt build up in his stomach as they walked on. He had put the thought in his head that he somehow upset Crowley, but he didn’t quite know how. He went over their very short, and rather petty, argument, trying to figure out how he managed to get the serpent in such a silent state. He kept letting his guilt and curiosity build up until he finally broke.

“What’s wrong, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked.

“Nothing’s the matter, angel.” Crowley said in an unconvincing voice.

“Crowley-”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley said through his teeth, “just- I’m okay. Can we keep walking, please?” Aziraphale tried to look at Crowley’s eyes through his glasses, trying to get any hint to what was the matter, but found nothing.

“Yes, okay.” Aziraphale sighed. “My apologies, dear.” He said in a quiet voice that only he could hear.

They continued their hike, Aziraphale was walking much slower than he usually would on any given day, but that isn’t something that he’d ever tell Crolwey. The metaphorical atmosphere began to become less thick, and they talked a little bit here and there, mostly admiring the beauty of the plants and creatures that surrounded them in the wood. 

Crowley began to get a little light headed, he often put his hand on his head, trying to keep his balance as they kept walking. While he kept pushing himself, the pain in his legs made themselves more known, the pain in his chest slowly grew in sharpness. Suddenly, the pain became too much, too fast, and he fell to the dirt ground only causing more pain to his knees. He made attempts to grip his chest and knees, tring to will them to stop hurting. The world around him began to blur around him, being completely absorbed by the pain.

“Breathe,” he heard a voice. “That’s it, Crowley, breathe.” Crowley looked up to find that the voice belonged to Aziraphale. He was sitting on his knees next to him, a hand floating above his side, unsure. Crowley attempts to smile at Aziraphale, although he is sure it probably looks more like a wince than reassuring.

Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and they were both suddenly in the back of his bookshop. Crowley was laying on a comfortable, old couch, with a weighted tartan blanket over him. He curled in on himself, allowing only his nose up to be out, unhidden from the blanket. Aziraphale was kneeling besides him, stroking his bright, red hair, not knowing what was happening.

“Are you okay?” Aziraphale rushes out. “Are you having a heart attack? I don’t think that we can-” 

“Angel.” Crowley cuts his rambling off with a weak laugh. “I’m fine.”

“You are most certainly  _ not _ fine, Crowley. You collapsed in the middle of the woods.”

“You sound as if I said something scandules.” Crowley tries to joke.

“This isn’t funny.” Aziraphale huffs. “You had me rather frightened.”

“ I’m fine, ‘s nothin I’m not used to.” Crowley tries to reassure him, although his seemingly full proof plan is interrupted with a wince from pain, and he is curling up even tighter under the blanket.

Aziraphale walks into another room, and brings back a plate of cinnamon rolls, and two mugs of hot cocoa. Both food and drink are miraculously at perfect consumption temperature,even though they didn’t exist just a moment ago, and there was an obvious lack of an oven and stovetop to heat either of those things up. Once the scent of the glaze and cinnamon hit Crowley’s nose, he sat up a tiny bit to inspect what was being brought in. Aziraphale kindly handed him a roll and sat down a mug in front of him, and Crowley slowly began to eat the cinnamon roll, mumbling a ‘thank you’ to the angel sitting across from him.

“So,”Aziraphale starts once they both finish their rolls and hot cocoa, “what happened today on the trail?”

“Nothing that you need to worry about.” Crowley said, looking at Aziraphale.

“Crowley.” Aziraphale warns.

“Seriously, angel,” Crowley sighs, “this happens a lot. Just hasn’t been this bad in a couple years. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“You collapsed, Crowley.” Aziraphale blinked at him. “What’s happening, Crowley.”

“I just hurt, Aziraphale. Honest to God that’s it. I’m just like that, yea? Usually the pain is manageable thought.”

“Oh, my dear-”

“Don’t,” Crowley points a finger at him, “don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Aziraphale asks, putting his hands up.

“ _ Pity _ me.” Crowley glares at him. “Not from you, please. I get it from the humans enough as it is.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale says in a small voice. “I’m . . . I’m sorry.”

“No,” Crowley sighs, looking away from Aziraphale, “don’t be. ‘S not your fault.”

“Anything that I can do, atleast?” Aziraphale asks.

“Just . . . just keep doing what you’ve been doing these six millenium, ‘kay?” 

“Yeah, sure.”Aziraphale takes a steady breath, “Okay. Yeah, I can do that.”


	3. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale has a nightmare where his and Crowley's roles are switched in the book shop fire scene
> 
> requested by @Arrias_Enigmatic

It has been a long day for everyone involved; not even 24 hours before the apocalypse was averted- something that has been carefully planned for thousands of years- Crowley and Aziraphale had to quickly figure out how to survive their personal doomsday. That night before the body switch, they heavily drank and talked for hours at Crowley’s apartment, being more than ready to be found out, for something- anything, to go wrong; spending what may be their last time together, as happy as they could make it. Eventually they sobered up, switched bodies and headed out; Crowley, now in Aziraphle’s body, saw that the bookshop was no longer burned down, and Aziraphale now in Crowley’s body, saw that there wasn't even a scratch on the Bentely.

At their, supposed to be, executions, they scared their sides into being left alone for the foreseeable future. Although there had been a demon in Heaven who recognized that look in Aziraphale’s eyes as Crowley, they were never found out. This was something that they tried to ignore for the time being; somewhere far, far, down the line, there would be another attempt for a war, but a much bigger one. Crowley and Aziraphale, being too attached to the Earth and everything still on it, will be there once again to stop it.

But, let us not get ahead of ourselves, our two heroes are currently walking back to Crowley’s apartment from the Ritz. They were both exhausted, and Aziraphale had suddenly begun to realize why the humans and Crowley had liked sleep so much. It wasn’t about being a necessity, it was a way to decompress, a way you could ignore the world for a handful of hours.

“You look real tired, angel.” Crowley says with a soft smile when they finally reach the door leading to his apartment. Aziraphale, for the first time in recorded history, had dark bags under his eyes with shoulders hunched forward.

“I feel tired.” Aziraphale agreed with a weak smile as Crowley unlocked his door.

Crowley opened the door and walked inside, stepping aside allowing the angel to walk through. He shut the door tightly behind him, took off his shoes, and led Aziraphale to the large bed that sat in the middle of his bedroom. Their steps were slow, their limbs felt heavy, making it difficult to walk and stay upright.

“I don’t,” Aziraphale started, allowing a yawn to slip out, “I don’t  _ need _ sleep.” His eyes began to droop as he sat on the bed, legs thrown over the side, supporting him from completely falling forward.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley sat next to him, placing a hand on his back, “look at yourself. You do.”

“I never  _ needed _ sleep.” Aziraphale squinted his eyes at the demon who was on his left. 

“The past few days have been rough on you, angel.” Crowley got up and started pulling back the large, black silk sheet. “We both have, c’mon.” He patted the empty spot. 

Aziraphale got up with a sigh, and headed over to where Crolwy was expecting him to lie down. 

“Maybe,” Crowley let out a breath that was supposed to be a laugh, “put on pajamas so you’re comfortable, yeah?” With a snap of Aziraphale’s fingers, he was in loose, tartan pajamas, and then plopped himself onto the bed.

“Beds are such a marvelous human invention.” Aziraphale mumbled into the pillow.

Crowley carefully climbed into the bed next to him, and pulled the blankets over the both of them. He placed a protective wing over the angel laying beside him, still scared about losing him

\---

_ Aziraphale was walking back to his book shop when Crowley came up to him, seeming rather panicked. He was stopped when Crowley grabbed Aziraphale, looking around like he was deciding on whether he should say what he wanted to or not. _

_ “I’m sorry. Apologise. Whatever I said. I didn’t mean it.” Crowley said between heavy breaths as if he had been running, Aziraphale let him shape what he was trying to say, let him stand there in silence, waiting for him to speak again- which he did, only a few breaths between what he just said, he started up again. “Work with me, I’m apologising here. Yes. Good. Get in the car.” Crowey motions to the vintage car that was parked by the sidewalk. _

_ “What? No!” Aziraphale said, voice laced with a hint of panic. _

_ “Forces of Hell. They’ve figured out that it was my fault.” Crowley forced out in a rushed breath. “We can run away, together. Alpha Centauri. Spare planets up there. Nobody will notice us.” Crowley’s voice was pleading, and his eyes were wide with both panic and begging. _

_ “Crowley,” Aziraphale shakes his head, “you’re being ridiculous. I’m quite sure that if I can just reach the right people, I can get all this sorted out.” _

_ “There aren’t any right people. There’s just God. Moving in mysterious ways and  _ not talking to any of us! _ ” Crowley shouts. _

_ “Well, yes. That’s why I’m going to have a word with the Almighty, and then the Almighty will fix it.” Aziraphale huffs. _

_ “That won’t happen.” Crowley stares at Aziraphale. “You’re so clever. How can somebody as clever as you be so stupid?” That right there had hurt Aziraphale, although he chose to not let that hurt show, pretending that what Crowley had just said didn’t offend him.  _

_ “I forgive you!” Aziraphale said, recalling back to the previous argument that they had, remembering how Crolwy said that he was unforgivable. He felt the pain radiate off the demon that day, how the demon heavily implied that he was still hurt by being thrown away from Her, that he’d never be forgiven in Her eyes, and that was something that he craved more than anything. _

_ Crowley storms away with that, and Aziraphale shrugs and begins to start walking again, until he hears the unmistakable horn from Crowley’s old car. Aziraphale turns back around and sees Crowley leaning out of the window. _

_ “I’m going home, angel.” Crowley shouts. “I’m getting my stuff. And I’m leaving. And when I’m off in the stars, I won’t even think about you!” When he finished, Crowley got back in his car, and sprd through the streets. _

_ Aziraphale blinked, and he was in front of his book shop. Before him, he saw smoke pouring out of the windows, he smelt the burning of old paper, he quickly realised that it was on fire. There were people surrounding his home, there were sirens blaring and lights flashing from multiple vehicles. There were firefighters unrolling their hoses from their trucks, getting ready to throw themselves into the blazing building. From where he was standing, he was able to feel the heat coming from the fire. _

_ After staring at his beloved book shop, he noticed a black car was parked on a curb near the shop. Crowley’s car. As soon as Aziraphale realized that it was Crowley’s car that was parked haphazardly on the pavement, he truly started to panic. It was then when he started towards the building. Firefighters huddled together, trying to get Aziraphale to stop advancing towards the building, but he pushed right through them. _

_ He walked inside what used to be his home, doors opening by a snap of his fingers, to reveal the massive fire that was inside. There were shelves of books on fire, walls starting to catch on fire and crumble from being eaten by the flames. Aziraphale looked around, eyes starting to burn, he tried to keep his breath calm and steady.  _

_ “Crowley!” Aziraphale shouted over the burning of paper surrounding him. “Crowley, where are you!” The walls and shelves are crumbling around him, and then a window smashes. A firehose hits Aziraphale, and he is knocked over. Just as quick as he fell, he is back on his feet, looking around desperately. _

_ Next to his feet, he sees Crowley’s signature glasses and picks them up immediately. The sunglasses are all melted, and they continue to melt in his hands. Aziraphale bites his lower lip as a tear falls from his eye. This sudden hurt and feeling of loneliness is quickly turned into anger- the kind of anger that consumes you.  _

_ “Bastards!” Aziraphale screams, allowing himself to cuss for the first time in his whole existence. “All of you! You killed my best friend!” Tears are now streaming down his face. He stuffs the handful of melted plastic that used to be Crowley’s glasses in his pocket and walks out. _

_ Aziraphale finds his way to the park where he and Crowley are often seen feeding ducks. Although there isn't any food on him, there are ducks and other small animals surrounding his feet.  _

_ “-phale.” He hears a faint voice.  _

_ “Aziraphale.” He looks around to try and find the source of the familiar voice, only finding a see-through Crowley sitting next to him. Instantly, tears are back in Aziraphale’s eyes, racing each other down his cheeks. _

_ “Angel.” Crowley says calmly. “Can you hear me?” _

_ “Of course I can hear you, dear.” Aziraphale smiles. _

_ “Aziraphale!” Crowley shouts, then everything goes black. _

\---

“Aziraphale.” Crowley gently shakes Aziraphale’s shoulder, trying to wake him up. He was harshly woken up to Aziraphale screaming his name in his ear several times, and mumbling other things in his sleep. Crowley had sat up, turning the lights on, to only find that Aziraphale was crying in his sleep- having a nightmare.

“Aziraphale, angel,” Crowley tries again, trying to wake him up. “Aziraphale, wake up, you’re having a nightmare.” Crowley leans over to run his thumb over the angel’s cheeks, wiping away his tears.

Aziraphale is quick to wake up with a sharp gasp, and sits up fast, hitting his head against Crowley’s. He rubs a hand over his forehead where their two heads met, and looks around frantically, eyes wide. Tears are already started back up, falling down his face as he shakes and holds himself.

Crowley scooches closer towards Aziraphale, and places a gentle hand on his quivering arm, only to have the arm yanked away. Crowley sighs and pulls Aziraphale into a tight hug, making shushing and other soothing noises as Aziraphale weakly tries to push him away.

“Shh, I got you Aziraphale.” Crowley says, resting his head the mess of white curls, rocking them both slightly, like one does with a child to calm them down. “It was just a nightmare. Breath, yeah? In,” he makes an audible breath in, Aziraphale trying to copy him “hold, and out.” Crowley lets out a breath. They sit there for a few minutes, with Crowley taking calming breaths, and Aziraphale trying to follow along.

“I- I dreamed,” Aziraphale started when he was finally calmed down to talk between his sudden, sharp breaths that always came after sobbing, “I dreamed that you, that you-” his voice was cut off by a traitoris breath and hiccup, Crowley only held him tighter.

“It’s okay Aziraphale, it was only a dream, I’m right here.” Crowley said quietly, wrapping his large, jet black wings around himself and Aziraphale, and he rubbed Aziraphale’s arm. “I’ve got you.”

“The bookshop, it was on fire, and you,” Aziraphale spoke between breaths, “and you weren’t there. Someone. . . you were gone.”

Crowley’s eyes went wide with realization, knowing exactly what he was talking about. He tried to hide how that memory was still ripe and very clear in his mind, and continued to sit with Aziraphale, rubbing his arms and making “shh” sounds.

Eventually, Crowley coaxed Aziraphale to lay back down and try going back to sleep. When they did, Aziraphale wrapped himself tightly around Crowley, and Crowley laid awake with his wings over Aziraphale, watching over him as he slept.


End file.
